Seasons of Change

It's been a hot minute since I mustered up the courage or desire to put my thoughts to words.  I've imagined plenty of stories I'd like to tell but never put the pen to paper, until this week.

It's growing more and more evident that this life moves fast.  If you don't take a moment to stop and look around, you just might miss it.

Today, my grandma moved into a nursing home.  Dementia is starting to take over and the once hip, fashion-forward woman I've known all my life is changing.  Understanding that our brain is intricate, I've accepted this change and know she can't control what is to happen next.  She is entering a season of change; a new phase of her life.  A phase that will be unpredictable but one that can also provide perhaps new personal stories of life as she fades backward in time.

Back at their homes, both of my parents are unknowingly cleaning out their spaces that once held memorable items I collected as a child.  As they hand them over to me, I sit and wonder, is it again a season of change?  Is our time together growing shorter?  It is inevitably growing shorter every year but this cleaning feels especially emotional.  Both parents delicate in their own way -- I am selfish to think I will have them forever.

It's all part of growing up, I guess.  I just worry this season of change is going to be tough.